Better Than Flowers
by TheMidnightLemon
Summary: Mycroft considers sending Lestrade anonymous flowers as a thank you for dealing with his brother and hopefully to signal his romantic interest. Anthea informs him that might come across as just a wee bit creepy and suggests seeing him in person instead. Rated T for innuendo.


"Anthea, please arrange for fifty orange carnations to be sent to detective inspector Lestrade's office along with a small thank you note," Mycroft ordered.

Anthea kept her eyes on her blackberry but paused in her frantic typing. "Flowers may be a bit of a, um, gamble, sir."

Mycroft looked to his assistant who was sitting beside him in the back of one of his many black cars. "Gamble?" He repeated, not quite following his assistant's line of thought.

Anthea licked her lips, obviously not comfortable with correcting her boss. "I realize to many anonymous flowers can appear to be romantic, which is what I assume is your intention. However..." She paused once again. "It can also come across as a bit, well, creepy to the everyday man. Especially to a detective who would just as likely assume that the flowers are from some deranged stalker rather than an honest thank you gesture from a gentleman interested in him," she finished and quickly went back to work on her blackberry.

"Ah," Mycroft replied. It was moments like these where he was quite grateful to have such a competent assistant. Especially one who better understood the mind of the everyday man. Mycroft had much more experience with the social elite and the norms were not always the same.

"Do you have any suggestions then since flowers may not convey the correct message?" Mycroft asked in earnest.

Anthea smiled a little. "Go see him in person."

Mycroft blinked and shifted in his seat. "In person? Isn't that a bit... forward?"

"Yes, it is. But you informed me that inspector Lestrade was not the type of man to beat around the bush, most likely because he has enough mysteries to deal with in a day."

Mycroft smirked softly. She had basically quoted him verbatim. She was absolutely right too. Why was he even considering making the poor man solve another mystery? The answer of course was obvious but he was loathe to admit to himself that he was incredibly nervous. He'd take hostile foreign dignitaries any day over asking a certain handsome inspector out for dinner.

He pressed the intercom button that connected to his driver. "Nickolas, kindly take us to Scotland Yard."

"Yes sir," came the usual reply.

Mycroft gripped the handle of his umbrella. He was already reconsidering the anonymous flowers. It seemed much easier on his poor nerves.

Anthea started to giggle.

"It isn't funny!" Mycroft nearly exclaimed.

It only made Anthea giggle more. "It's a little funny."

"This could be disastrous Anthea, some support would be appreciated."

"I rarely get to see you so flustered sir, forgive me for enjoying the moment."

Mycroft rolled his eyes and scoffed. "He will ask why I would want to go on a date with him considering I'd never met him face to face before."

"And I advise telling him the truth."

"Then I will truly sound like some deranged stalker!"

Anthea broke into giggles once more. "You sort of are, sir, with all due respect."

Mycroft ran his hands over his face. "This is terrible."

The car stopped and Mycroft's heart began to race so fast he was worried he'd work himself into a minor anxiety attack.

"You'll be fine sir. Just be honest and your usual charming self," Anthea coached.

"If this goes terribly you're the one who has to deal with me."

"I am very well aware of that sir."

Mycroft gave Anthea a small smile then schooled his features and got out of the car striding purposefully into Scotland Yard.

His ID got him through the building without any vocal questions, but the silent ones were numerous. It was quite the powerful ID to be used here.

He paused in front of Lestrade's secretary's desk. He could have gone right to the office door but it seemed a bit rude to flaunt his power like that when his visit was a personal matter.

"Good afternoon, how can I help you?" The young lady seated at the desk asked.

"I would like to speak with Detective Inspector Lestrade. I assume I will only take fifteen minutes of his time at most."

The lady nodded and stood. "And who should I say is asking after him?"

"Mycroft Holmes."

She paused for a moment, her mouth opening to speak but she quickly shut it and smiled at him before making her way into her boss's office.

Mycroft assumed she was going to ask if there were any relations to Sherlock Holmes but decided against it. Quite polite of her.

She came out a few moments later and returned to her desk. "He says he will see you now," she said and gestured towards Lestrade's door.

"Thank you," Mycroft replied and took the short journey to Lestrade's office door. He knocked twice then let himself in.

Greg Lestrade stood and offered a hand to Mycroft. "What can I do for you Mr. Holmes?"

Mycroft had to use every bit of self-control not to let his awe show on his face. The man was infinitely more beautiful this close in person. A silver fox, as Anthea had said.

He only hesitated a moment before taking the hand and shaking it firmly. He felt like a bloody school boy with the thoughts going through his head. Getting excited over just touching the man's hand.

Mycroft let go of his hand first, surprised that it wasn't Greg, and sat down across from him, twirling his umbrella a little.

"I feel I should introduce myself a bit more properly. I am Sherlock's older brother," Mycroft informed him.

"Oh hell," came Greg's response. He slumped back into his chair and ran his hands over his face and hair. "Alright, what is it?"

Mycroft couldn't help but smirk. "This visit has nothing to do with my brother, you can put your mind at ease."

"Thank god for that. No offence, but your brother has had me working overtime this whole week."

"I know," Mycroft replied.

Greg cocked an eyebrow. "You talk to Sherlock often?"

"Rarely."

"Then how do you know?" Greg prompted.

Mycroft looked to his umbrella, twirling the handle once more. This was going to be incredibly, incredibly awkward but he may as well get this out of the way now in case Greg did react favourably to his interests. It would be worse to confess this matter over dinner.

"Well...?"

Mycroft forced himself to look at the detective again. "I keep tabs on Sherlock," he began.

He sighed. He was already lying.

"I don't blame you, that man does enjoy getting into as much trouble as humanly possible and then some."

Mycroft smirked. Very true. But he really did need to start again.

"I feel I should be a bit more clear. I have surveillance on Sherlock. You are also included on that surveillance due to your proximity to my brother."

Greg's eyes narrowed slightly as the information set in. "I could have you arrested for that kind of stuff."

"Good luck with that."

"Alright Holmes, what's your game? What do you want?" Greg asked, his body visibly tensing.

Mycroft groaned. This was not going at all how he wanted. Anthea was correct, this man was thinking in terms of his job. He was not even considering that this conversation was meant to be a casual, personal one. Not that Mycroft was helping at all with the sort of information he was giving the inspector. He needed to change the mood and quickly before all hope was lost.

"I want to go out to dinner with you," Mycroft blurted out.

Greg's jaw dropped and his eyebrows shot up. "What?"

Mycroft stood. He needed to make a tactical retreat. This was an absolute disaster. "Nevermind. I'm sorry to have bothered you inspector."

"Wait wait wait. You're asking me out?" Greg asked.

"That was the intention, yes. I am sorry that I was unable to have this encounter in a manner that would have seemed more normal to you. Due to my job I'm unable to frequent pubs and the like," Mycroft hastily replied.

Greg chuckled and a strange little smug grin crossed his features. "So, let me get this straight. You're keeping surveillance on Sherlock, saw me on the tapes, and found me attractive?"

Mycroft swallowed. "Yes."

"Do I even want to know what you do if you can keep surveillance on Sherlock and apparently not be bothered by the fact that I could arrest you?"

"I occupy a minor position in the British government," Mycroft replied automatically.

"Right. Yeah. And Sherlock is just smart."

Mycroft smirked at the sarcasm. The inspector caught on quick. He was a lot sharper than Sherlock had lead him to believe. "Again inspector, I am sorry to have bothered you. Good day."

"Whoa whoa. You haven't even heard my answer!"

"You would like me to stand here and wait for you to reject my offer?"

"Actually, I'd like to know if you were free tonight."

Mycroft froze. What just happened? Everything lead to a negative response. Was Lestrade toying with him now?

Greg just grinned. "Well? You free?"

"I... don't understand why you're agreeing," Mycroft stated. He knew it was usually unwise to look a gift horse in the mouth but this was simply bizarre to him.

Greg shrugged. "Seems pretty simple to me. You found me attractive, I find you attractive, we should go out and see if we get along. And at least we have a common factor we can talk about – your very special brother. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Yes, yes of course. I just didn't expect a favourable response considering what I just admitted to you."

Greg openly roamed his eyes over Mycroft. "I think I'd be a bit of a fool to turn down your offer, strange government connections and all."

Mycroft blushed and cleared his throat. "Yes, I'm um, that is, I'm free tonight."

"Brilliant. I'm done at seven. Should I be dressing up?"

"Perhaps a suit would be more acceptable. I can pick you up at your house at eight."

"Please don't say you've been peeking in my windows too."

Mycroft quickly turned bright red. "Goodness no!"

"You don't want to look?" Greg asked, grinning widely.

"I should be leaving you now," Mycroft quickly replied. He was not at all expecting Greg to trap him so easily in a conversation.

Greg chuckled deeply. "You're even more handsome when you blush, Mr. Holmes."

"Mycroft," Mycroft squeaked out.

"Mycroft," Greg repeated with a grin. "Well, my handsome stalker, I'll see you at eight."

Mycroft nodded and turned to go but stopped at the door. Something was still nagging at him. He turned back around. "Should I be concerned that you're playing me for a fool?"

"You're still wondering why I'm saying yes?"

"Frankly, yes."

"I work with your brother, Mycroft. I learned to go with the flow a long time ago. Hardly anything seems strange to me anymore. And if I worried about every person who approached me for anything at all I'd be a paranoid hermit. Just accept the fact that an attractive man came into my office, randomly asked me to dinner, and that I very much want to join him," Greg finished with a grin.

Mycroft nodded a little. "Oh, another question."

"Yeah?"

"If I had sent you flowers, would you have considered that... creepy?"

"It would have set off a few alarm bells, yeah. But you're more than welcome to send them now that I know who you are and how handsome you are. What were you planning to send anyways?"

"Fifty orange carnations," Mycroft nearly whispered.

Greg just smiled. "Do I want to know how you know those are my favourite?"

"Probably not."

"Bring them next time."

Mycroft smiled slightly. "I shall."

* * *

**A/N:** _ Hey everybody! I hope you enjoyed my sexy/cute little one shot. Yes, sorry, I prefer to do my fanfictions in short story form right now. This is because I'm working on a large project over at fictionpress - my m/m soap opera! If you're interested I really hope you will check it out. Just head to fictionpress dot com slash ~dianelennox. Or go to my profile here and check the links!_


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